


Black Friday

by GwendolynGrace



Series: Blackstory [13]
Category: Alternity - A Harry Potter Alternate Universe, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter Alternity - Fandom
Genre: Blackstory, Canon Backstory, Canon Compliant, Gen, HP Alternity, RPG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGrace/pseuds/GwendolynGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius returns from working with Peter and James on the Animagus transformation, to find that his father wants to speak to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Friday

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 2008-2010. This is one of a series of "Blackstory" - backstory about the Blacks - that I wrote while playing in the RPG HP Alternity. Because they take place before the RPG diverged from canon, these pieces are largely canon-compliant. The actions of the characters were approved by the players at the time of writing.

July 1973

 

‘Okay, so, see you Sunday?’ Peter asked as he saw Sirius and James to the door. They’d been meeting all summer, whenever they could, to work on The Plan. It was a wrench keeping it from Remus, but The Plan required absolute secrecy.

‘I’m in,’ James said. He looked at Sirius.

‘I think so,’ Sirius agreed. ‘I mean, I hope I can get away.’ His stomach twisted at the look of sympathy on his friends’ faces. ‘Merlin's sake, it’s not _Nicholas Nickleby_ , lads. But yeah, I’ll have to let you know, right?’

‘Sure, okay,’ Peter said quickly. ‘Send an owl.’

‘Yeah.’

The deep pink tinge on the horizon was giving way to streetlamps as they left Peter’s front step. James and Sirius walked down to the nearest Tube entrance, reviewing Peter’s technique and betting each other which of them would be able to manage a complete transformation first.

‘I think you came close in the last thirty minutes,’ Sirius said.

‘Yeah, it was weird. I could sort of feel the bones shifting. Hurt a bit.’

Sirius nodded. ‘Probably that's why you stopped. You've got to let go when the transformation takes over. Peter’s having trouble with concentration,’ he observed. ‘You ought to work with him on his focus.’

‘ _You_ ought,’ James said.

‘If I can’t make it,’ Sirius clarified.

James grunted. He looked about to say something, but Sirius gestured up the tunnel. ‘Here it comes,’ he said. Neither spoke while the cars rattled into the station, the platform crowded with exiting passengers, and they entered and found seats.

‘I asked Mum if you could stay for a week before we go back,’ James said once the train lurched forward.

‘Cheers,’ Sirius said. ‘But … it’s not a good time to ask,’ he continued. ‘Father’s been in a right mood. He’s fighting this law the Ministry wants to pass….’

‘Yeah, the Muggle Exchanges Commissions Act?’ James nodded. ‘I heard my dad talking about that. Basically it’s a unified method for incorporating Muggle investments as a measure of net worth, right?’

‘Yeah, and regulating Gringott’s exchange rates,’ Sirius agreed. They kept their voices as low as they could, but the train was loud as it sped through the tunnel. Luckily, the cars had emptied out considerably at the last stop, and there were very few other passengers at this hour. ‘He’s massively keyed up about it all. I think he’s even planning—’

‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ Sirius said, wetting his lips. ‘He’s been lobbying everyone he knows at the Ministry. And the Transportation Act has him all lathered, too.’

‘That’s…the one that’ll limit travel in muggle areas except by muggle methods?’ James verified.

‘That one,’ Sirius confirmed. ‘Banning carpets, for a start. Stricter regulations on Portkey and Floo licenses as well. Not to mention making Apparation subject to penalties if performed under certain circumstances.’ He drew to a halt, aware that James was staring at him.

‘Been reading the white papers, or what?’ James asked.

‘Yeah,’ Sirius said apologetically. ‘Sorry. He’s been giving me and Reg both these treatises to read, calls it our “summer assignment.” Like Slughorn, McGonagall and Sprout don’t have enough for us to do.’

James said nothing. Sirius subsided, aware that he could easily work _himself_ into a lather if he wasn’t careful.

‘It’s getting bad, isn’t it?’ James asked quietly when the Tube rattled to a stop.

Sirius set his mouth grimly. ‘You know, when you started changing today? I swear I could see horns. Maybe your form is a satyr.’

James shook his head. ‘You know when _you_ start to change, your skin gets all black? You must be an imp.’ He flashed his hand out as if to tap Sirius on the cheek. Sirius blocked quickly and riposted with his other hand, which James also blocked. They laughed.

‘Pillock,’ Sirius said.

‘Wanker,’ James returned. ‘Yours is next,’ he reminded Sirius.

‘Oh, yeah.’ They rode quietly until the conductor announced the stop. ‘Well, see you,’ Sirius said hopefully.

‘Yeah, see you Sunday,’ James insisted.

Sirius waved in acknowledgment and hopped onto the platform. James’ optimism was infectious; it stayed with Sirius on his connecting train, then up the escalator to the street and along the short walk back to Grimmauld Place. The city had changed fully from day to night while they’d been underground, but the neighbourhood streets were relatively safe and anyway, he had a pocketknife in addition to his wand.

He let himself in through the back garden, as there were fewer windows overlooking the approach to the house. He could see the glow of light from his father’s study on the right, in his brother’s room at the top of the house, and straight ahead, the light in the kitchen window down in the cellar. When he opened the door, he could hear Kreacher puttering about with preparations for the next day’s meals.

He took a deep breath, then walked into the entryway as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Kreacher didn’t pop up to stop him. When he turned to climb the stairs, he glimpsed his mother through the partly opened doors of the parlour, writing a letter at her desk. He ascended as quietly as he could, pausing at the landing. She didn’t call for him, either.

Breathing a little more easily, he headed up to the next level. At the top here was Father’s office, but the door was closed completely. One of the portraits scowled at him, but he put his finger to his mouth with a pleading expression on his face. Great-Grandfather Cygnus rolled his eyes, but contented himself to wag a hand at him in reproach. Sirius winked and kept on, attaining the landing that separated his room from his brother’s.

He unlatched the door and it swung open. As if the action created a wind tunnel, Regulus’ door also unlatched. Sirius got one foot over the threshold of his room before his brother appeared in the doorway of his.

‘Father was looking for you,’ he said simply. It was as much warning as accusation; though they clashed frequently, especially at school when James and Reg met on the Quidditch pitch, at home they were as often allied as opposed.

‘I said I’d be at Peter’s for supper,’ Sirius replied, instantly defensive.

Regulus shrugged. ‘I guess he thought you’d be back before dark.’

Sirius sighed. He had one chance to save himself, if he went immediately to his father’s study. He couldn’t make it seem as if Reg had sent him back down, either, nor could he be caught going back. He started back down the stairs.

Reg coughed.

‘What?’ Sirius half-whispered, looking over his shoulder.

Reg said nothing, but flicked his eyes down the length of Sirius’ body and back up. His lips twisted to the side with disapproval.

Sirius scowled back at his brother in disgust. Rolling his eyes, he trudged back to his room to take off the denim jacket and throw a set of robes over his shirt and jeans.

As he crossed the threshold, however, he heard the treads of the stairs creak behind him. ‘Ah, there you are. I thought I heard you pass,’ his father said loudly.

Sirius’ breath caught in his throat. He spun round, reflexively grabbing the doorknob on the inside of his door for support.

‘Good evening, Father,’ he said in a falsely cheery voice.

One look at the utter lack of amusement on his father’s face made his smile Disapparate. He gripped the doorknob more tightly.

Orion Black held his son’s gaze for a moment before speaking. When he did speak, it was not to Sirius right away. ‘Regulus, you will kindly retire,’ he said, with only the slightest sidelong glance toward Reg’s door.

Sirius tried to return his father’s confident, cold look, but his eyes slid over to fix on his brother. Reg just grimaced sadly, shrugged in helplessness, said, ‘Yes, sir. Goodnight, then,’ and retreated.

Sirius’ father waited before he spoke again. His eyes were like augers drilling into Sirius’ head. Sirius had to look up to meet them, but he dropped his gaze to his father’s collar in the glare of Orion’s anger. Only then did Orion address him.

‘Your mother was worried,’ he began. ‘You could have let us know you’d arrived home. Finally.’

‘I was just about to,’ Sirius said.

‘After you changed out of your muggle rags?’ his father growled.

Sirius was proud of his denim. He’d found it at the beginning of the summer in a consignment shop, practically new, for only a quid. ‘I … guess.’

‘And was that before or after your brother told you I wanted to see you?’ his father continued.

‘Er….’ Sirius felt his mouth go dry. He didn’t get a chance to construct an answer.

‘It’s bad enough visiting your muggle-loving friends. But traipsing about London at night?’

‘It’s not that bad—’

‘It’s past half nine. Have you any idea how dangerous the streets are after dark? Particularly in _muggle_ London? How do you expect to defend yourself if you can’t use your wand? You won’t be of age for another two and a half years—’

‘Yeah, no kidding,’ Sirius muttered. He looked up, shocked at himself for letting the comment slip out.

Orion twitched his wand, which Sirius hadn’t even realised was in his father’s hand. His legs went wobbly and collapsed, sending him to his knees. Only his grip on the doorknob kept him from pitching forward. He stifled a cry of pain; the floorboards were hard and he could tell he’d skinned his knees inside his jeans.

‘Much as I disagree with the Ministry’s misguided policies, it is currently _against the law_ for wizards to use magic where muggles can see it, particularly an _underage_ wizard,’ his father reminded him.

‘Yes, sir,’ Sirius said. His gaze fell on a nail that had been pounded at a slight angle, then smoothed with varnish and wax.

‘Then I think my question is not unfounded, do you not agree?’

‘Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir, it’s not unfounded.’ He tried to move his legs, but they were numb. His hand tapped nervously against his thigh instead, in an involuntary motion.

‘We agreed to let you visit the Pettigrews because they are purebloods. Consequently we presumed you would travel properly. Why didn’t you come home by Floo?’

Suddenly, Sirius recognised the trap his father was laying. It wasn’t that he’d been out after dark—though that was certainly part of his father’s problem. ‘You’re not upset because I’m late,’ he said sullenly.

‘No?’ his father advanced a step.

‘You’re upset,’ Sirius bit out, ‘because you think I took the Tube.’

He could see his father’s hand tighten on his wand, his thumb and forefinger working the turned wood. ‘And did you? Take the muggle underground?’

‘No,’ Sirius said, as deadpan as if he were covering up a prank in McGonagall’s office. ‘Not with the Transportation Act in play,’ he supplied. ‘I just walked… It’s a nice night.’

‘Rubbish,’ Orion pronounced. ‘You can’t have walked, not that far.’

‘It’s not _that_ far,’ Sirius said. ‘Anyway, I’m sorry it took so long. And yes, I’m wearing muggle clothes, but I was out, you know. I wanted to change as soon as I got in, then I was coming down to tell you I’d come back.’ Once he’d got started, the lies rolled out easily.

His father flicked his wand and Sirius could feel his legs again. ‘Hm,’ Orion said, in a tone that meant he didn’t quite believe his son, but couldn’t exactly disprove what he’d said. ‘Lucky for you, that was not why I wanted to see you in the first place.’

Sirius said nothing. It was obvious that his father hadn’t wanted to see him about being late (or taking the Tube) when he had been looking for him before he’d even come back. But it would only antagonise him to point that out. Instead he got to his feet. ‘Yes, sir?’

Orion pointed his wand over Sirius’ shoulder at the door, still half-open. ‘What is the meaning of that?’ he asked poisonously.

‘Er….’ Sirius followed his father’s extended wand. The lights came on in his room. He could clearly see the pinup of Racquel Welch he’d put on the wall only yesterday. ‘She’s pretty?’

‘She’s a muggle?’ his father retorted in a tone to echo and mock Sirius’ intonation.

‘Well,’ Sirius said with a frown, ‘yes.’

‘Yes,’ his father said triumphantly. ‘Muggle tarts, muggle clothes—I expect you were with that mudblood from your class, the one you’ve mentioned before: Everett?’

‘Evans,’ Sirius corrected reflexively, ‘but no, I wasn’t—’

‘Don’t interrupt,’ Orion snapped. ‘My point is that you persist in your fascination with muggle artefacts and muggle society. Now muggle harlots. It’s the influence, no doubt, of the company you keep. Moreover, you clearly cannot be trusted with the responsibility required to come and go as you please. You will therefore confine yourself to the house for the rest of the summer holiday. You may leave, provided we consent and your brother goes with you—and on no account are you to be out in London after dark. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, it’s clear,’ Sirius said. He couldn’t quite keep the defiance out of his voice.

‘You’re still only fourteen and I will not see this family brought before the Ministry for violating their ridiculous Trace. You will not cause me that kind of embarrassment, boy, do you understand?’

‘I understand perfectly,’ Sirius spat out.

Orion brought up his wand and twisted it sharply. Sirius felt a crack against his cheek hard enough to snap his head to the right. The sting remained long after the initial slap.

‘Do. Not. Cheek. Me. Sirius. I am still your father and you are my son—for the time being.’

Sirius grunted, both from the effort not to give in to pain and from the bitterness of his father’s statement. ‘For the time being,’ he repeated. ‘You and Mother, that’s your ultimate punishment, isn’t it? Chucking me out? Maybe it’s not quite the threat you think it is, Father.’ He said the last with all the derision he could muster.

His father jerked his wand to the left; Sirius landed hard on his knees again. He bit his tongue on the impact and stifled another grunt.

‘You have a roof, food, clothes, books, even pocket money which you squander on muggle trash,’ his father told him. He wasn’t shouting, but that was only because Regulus was right on the other side of his door. ‘If you are so anxious to leave, why don’t you do it? Hm? Because you know you still need this house.’

'I'm not afraid of you,' Sirius declared.

'No?' Orion motioned with his wand. Sirius was dragged across the floor, into the room. Orion shut the door. He gestured again and Sirius felt a hard grip on his hair, pulling his upper body off the floorboards. His father leaned down to his ear. ‘Be thankful I am still committed to our duties as parents, despite the continual disappointment you present. If you insist on disgracing us, I will lock you in this room with a charm only your mother and I can release. I will snap your wand myself, if necessary. Do not test me, Sirius; I am well beyond my patience with your adolescent rebellion.’

He released the spell and Sirius fell forward with an audible sigh. He turned his head at the last second to avoid smashing his nose, but this only slapped his already-injured cheek into the wood.

‘It’s not rebellion,’ he said, feeling miserable but not sure why it mattered to him. ‘Don’t you see, Father? It’s not about defying you, sir.’ He pushed himself into a sit, wincing as the denim scraped against the raw skin. He had to prod his own legs as they were still limp and lifeless.

His father sighed. ‘Then what is it, Sirius? Why do you persist?’

‘Because…because they’re my friends. Evans, sure, she’s muggleborn, but she’s the cleverest witch in our year. Maybe the cleverest witch I’ll ever meet. And she’s all right, there’s nothing wrong with her. Not that I’m interested in dating her,’ he added hastily. He gained momentum, taking his father’s silence for leave to continue. ‘I know loads of blokes at school who’re halfblood or muggleborn. They’re cracking. And muggles, they’ve got a lot to offer. Just because something’s muggle-made, doesn’t make it all bad, does it? Loads of things we use every day were actually invented by—’

‘Enough.’ Orion’s voice sounded murderous. ‘I’ll have none of this blasphemy in my house.’ He crossed to the door and turned back before opening it. ‘You will remove that vulgarity from your wall,’ he ordered, pointing at the poster, ‘and you will refrain from visiting your blood-traitor acquaintances for the duration of the holiday.’

‘Is that because you’re concerned for my _safety_ , or that I’ll make you look bad in your arguments with the Ministry?’ Sirius accused bitterly. Again, he regretted it instantly, and bit his lips and closed his eyes in self-reproach.

His father looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for strength. After a long pause, he looked down at his son. ‘I was going to release the hex on your legs,’ he commented mildly, ‘but I think I shall let it wear off on its own, instead. You’ll be able to move them in a couple of hours. Oh, and one more thing: you will surrender your wand to me for inspection both before you leave and again after you return from any outing.’

‘What?’ Sirius gaped. ‘Why?’

His father laughed: a brief, cruel snort. ‘Of the many ways you have failed us, Sirius, stupidity is not among them.’ He opened the door and passed through, shutting it behind him.

 

Regulus was across the hall about five seconds after Orion left. Ignoring Sirius’ muttered, ‘Oh, just what I need,’ he started in straight off without preamble. ‘Are you mad? What do you mean, provoking him like that?’

‘Provoking?’ Sirius said. He’d meant to sound cross and indignant, but his voice cracked on the word and it came out sounding like he was about to cry. Which he wasn't. ‘Why are you always on his side? He’s totally unreasonable. I think he’s losing his mind, actually.’

‘He’s not. He’s just—got a lot on it at the moment,’ Reg said.

Sirius’s brow knit together. ‘What were you about to say?’ he asked with suspicion.

‘Nothing. Do you want anything from downstairs? I could nick pudding for you.’ Reg took a step toward the door.

‘No, I don’t want pudding. Reg, wait, stop!’ Sirius called before his brother could escape. ‘What’s he planning? You know, don’t you, he’s told you something?’

Reg shook his head. ‘What? He’s not planning anything, and if he were, what makes you think he’d tell me?’ He flapped his arms against his sides, ‘Anyway, it’s not like he’s going to take me along, says I’m too young, doesn’t he, as if I can’t be useful—’

‘Take you along on what?’ Sirius asked quietly.

‘On— Nothing. He’s not—it’s nothing. Nothing to do with _you_ ,’ he clarified.

‘Then what has it to do with?’ Sirius pressed.

Reg struggled for a moment. Then he straightened with pride. ‘I can’t tell you,’ he said, like he had a great secret but believed it too important to share.

‘Wh— Fine,’ Sirius conceded, rolling his eyes. ‘Don’t tell me, then. Let him go duel himself to oblivion. Not like I care, anyway.’

‘That’s right, you _don’t_ care,’ Reg retorted hotly. ‘You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t, so why shouldn’t he trust me and not you? And who says it’s a duel?’

Sirius shot his brother a baleful look. ‘Of the many ways I've failed our parents, stupidity is not among them,’ he said in a dead tone.

The flush faded from Regulus’ face. He grimaced in commiseration, but instead of confirming Sirius’ suspicion, he looked up at the poster. ‘You’d better get rid of that,’ he suggested. ‘If you want to be able to leave the house.’

‘If I’m not going to be allowed to leave, then I’ll want it to look at, won’t I?’ Sirius reasoned. ‘Anyway, it’s none of his business what I keep in my own room.’

Reg halted again on his progress to the door. Part of Sirius wished he’d just go and leave him in peace, but part was hopeful that they could agree, at least, on the sanctity of one’s room.

Sure enough, ‘Wasn’t him, anyway, it was Mother,’ Reg revealed.

‘Mother? Came in my room?’

Reg nodded. ‘She thought you were—she thought you’ve been going to your girlfriend’s house.’

‘I don’t have a girlfriend,’ Sirius explained.

‘I told her that, actually,’ Reg said, conversational once more, ‘but she was convinced you had, you know, er… _stuff_ , for it. For shagging.’

Sirius went pale. ‘Okay, after we're done here, we’re just not ever going to admit we had this discussion,’ he said darkly.

‘Right,’ Reg agreed. ‘Well, she came in and saw…that. Her.’ He paused to look at the bikini-clad model for a moment, then cleared his throat. ‘Then she went straight to Father.’

‘Why?’ Sirius asked, perplexed.

Reg shrugged. ‘Didn’t hear most of it. Something about his job to tell us both about, you know, girls. And how she won’t allow you to idolise these muggle trollops, when you should be thinking about purebloods, if you’re going to have to start thinking about girls at all.’

‘Blimey,’ Sirius said. 'She actually told him to give us The Talk?' Which, he added firmly, neither of them needed. He'd seen to that, at least.

‘Yeah. It was weird, hearing her go on,’ Reg said. ‘Kind of damaging. I think I’m scarred for life, actually.’

‘Well, so it was at least partially useful,’ Sirius observed amiably.

Reg crossed his arms. ‘Oh, very funny. Who’s on the floor unable to even get into bed, then?’

‘Shut up,’ Sirius said, but wholly without rancor now. ‘But what has all that to do with Father’s duel?’

‘Nothing, it’s just that while he's trying to prepare, Mother’s been after him to have The Talk with us and he doesn’t want to, obviously. And there was an article in the papers today that had him riled already. So you picked a good night for it.’

‘Thanks for the heads-up,’ Sirius replied, sarcasm creeping back into his voice.

‘Cheers,’ Regulus replied. ‘Do your legs hurt?’

‘Can’t feel them right now, but I expect they’re going to, a lot.’

‘He wanted you to have a think,’ Reg concluded.

‘No shit, really?’ Sirius said.

Reg scowled. ‘He’s right, you know. It’s unbelievable the way the Ministry is pandering to muggles. I don’t know why you have to push him so.’

‘Because he’s a maniac about it,’ Sirius insisted. ‘He’s just bigoted. You know first-hand that muggleborns are just as good at magic with the proper training. And okay, there’s some muggles out there who are just as bad as all the stories say—Evans’ sister, for a start—but most of them are harmless.’

‘You’re just saying that because you've gone mad for all their rubbish,’ Regulus said. ‘That rot you call music and their filthy motorised transports and all. Like that thing you're going on about buying—that blike.’

‘Bike,’ Sirius corrected, but Regulus ignored him.

‘I don’t see why you think they’re so much better—do you even care you're a wizard?’

‘Don’t you start, too, Reggie. I don’t need it from you as well.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘Well, don’t spew their useless, prejudiced drivel at me, then, goblin. Or do you prefer poncer?’

‘Fine, get stuffed,’ Reg spat. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. Shall I call Mother up just when you’re about to finish wanking? Tosser. And don’t ask for help when your legs go to pins and needles, either!’ He stormed to the door and slammed it behind him. A second later his own door slammed as well.

Sirius looked up at the poster. ‘Well, love, at least I’ve still got you.’ With some difficulty, he pulled himself onto his bed.

He’d have to owl Peter and James to let them know he wouldn’t be able to work with them on The Plan for the rest of the summer. Even if he managed to convince Reg to go out so that he could leave, it was an even guess which of them was supposed to chaperon the other, and anyway, there was no way he could work on The Plan with Reg along.

But if he were going to spend the rest of summer shut up in his room, he could make use of the time. Starting with learning the charm his Father mentioned, so no one could walk in while he was trying to transform himself. With any luck, he’d still win his bet with James….


End file.
